


Shelter

by LemonCakeDesign



Series: Writer's Month 2020 Fics [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cold, Fluff, Gen, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonCakeDesign/pseuds/LemonCakeDesign
Summary: And it's a long way forward, so trust in meI'll give them shelter, like you've done for mePike gets a cold.
Series: Writer's Month 2020 Fics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862386
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Shelter

“I’m dying, aren’t I?” Pike asks.

“You have a cold,” Seren says, rolling her eyes. 

Pike coughs, covering his mouth with his arm. “It feels like I’m dying.”

Seren shakes her head, turning towards her cabinet. “I’m sure it does. But it’s just a cold, Pike.” She pulls out a bottle and hands it to him. “Here. This should help with the symptoms, but you’re going to have to wait it out. Get some rest, Twelve knows you need it, and drink some water. And no fighting. You’re as likely to impale yourself on your sword as you are to actually be any help.”

Pike takes the bottle from her. “You can’t just fix me?”

“It could be more harmful than good,” Seren replies. She looks over her glasses at him. “A few days at most, Pike. You can rest for that long.”

Pike pouts and hops off the table, making his way back to his room. He looks at the bottle in his hands. It’s a purple color, wholly artificial, and as he uncorks it, the smell makes his eyes water. He downs it swiftly, making a face at the taste (a strange mix between grape and mint, with a sickly sweetness), and face plants into his bed.

The door opens, and Pike hears someone walk in.

“How’re you feeling, kid?” Valliant asks, and she sits on the bed next to him.

Pike lets out a low whine, lifting his head to look at her. “I’m dying.”

“Mmhmm. Seren told you it was a cold, didn’t she.”

“I will cough on you.”

Valliant snorts. “Sure, kid. It’s just a few days of illness, Pike.”

Pike whines again, planting his face back into his pillow. “I don’t get sick,” he says, muffled by the fabric.

“It happens to all of us. You’ve been going hard for the last week, barely sleeping. I told you that you needed a break.” She runs a hand gently over his hair. “You’re not a machine, kid. Take the excuse to rest.”

Pike flips over, still hugging the pillow to his chest. “I don’t need rest. I need to be out there, helping—” he breaks out into a coughing fit, turning his head away from Valliant so he doesn’t cough on her despite his earlier threats. “Ow.”

“Oh, how far the Warrior of Light has fallen. Outdone by a coughing fit.” Valliant smirks at him. “Rest, Pike. The world will survive a few days without you.”

Pike sighs. “Fine.”

* * *

A few hours later, Valliant sits at the bar in the Rising Stones. F’lhaminn is stirring a pot of something that smells delicious. It’s an old recipe, apparently, something F'lhaminn used to make for Minfilia when she got sick, and she swears by it.

There’s a clattering down the hall, and Valliant frowns, leaning back to look.

Pike stumbles down the hallway, first running into a wall, then tripping over something invisible and sprawling in the common area. His eyes are glassy and unfocused as he looks up at her.

Valliant sighs and stands. “I thought you were resting.”

Pike blinks at her. “Valliant!” he says cheerily, apparently ignoring her comment. “Hi. I got lonely.”

Valliant’s eyebrows knit together, and she bends down to help Pike off the ground. He goes boneless as she grabs him, and she has to haul him to his feet and into a chair. “Pike,” she says. “You should have stayed in your room.”

“Don’t wanna,” Pike says, nearly tipping out of the chair. “It’s boring.”

Valliant feels his forehead and sighs. “You’re burning up, kid.”

“Am I on fire?” Pike questions, eyes going wide. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“F’lhaminn, can you get Seren?” Valliant asks. “Pike, you’re fine. Stay in the chair.”

F’lhaminn leaves the room, and Valliant gets some water. She hands the glass to Pike. “Drink.”

Pike tilts his head at the glass, considering it. Then he takes a sip suspiciously. “Not poisoned,” he declares. “I would know.”

“Mm,” Valliant says. “I wouldn’t poison you, kid.”

“I trust you,” Pike says with a nod. “You’re my best friend. You’re the best. But there’s people after me.”

“There’s no one after you.”

“There’s always someone after me,” Pike declares. “Garleans. Zenos. Ascians. Tax collectors. I haven’t paid my taxes in years, they’re gonna come after me.”

Valliant shakes her head. “They’re not going to get you here, Pike. I won’t let that happen.”

She smooths a hand over his hair. He leans into it, nearly tipping the water over on himself as his eyes slide shut. After a few seconds, Valliant hears a faint snore, and she realizes Pike is asleep.

Valliant shakes her head and takes the water from him, setting it on the table. “I wish tax collectors were your biggest problem,” she says to Pike softly.

* * *

Pike wakes with a crick in his neck and feeling leagues better. There’s still the faint headache and a tightness in his chest, but he can finally breathe in through his nose. He blinks and looks around the room.

He’s in the common area, propped up in one of the chairs, and Valliant sleeps nearby, head pillowed on a table. Pike doesn’t remember coming out there at all. He frowns to himself, then stretches, accidentally knocking into the table as he does.

Valliant startles awake, snorting awkwardly. She wipes at her face, and looks at Pike.

“Hey,” he says, frowning at his sore throat. “Why am I out here?”

“You wandered out here talking about how people were coming to get you,” Valliant answers, stretching and cracking her neck a few times. “Tax collectors specifically.”

“Ah,” Pike says. “Yeah. I had a weird thought about not having paid Garlean taxes and wondering if they were going to send the Cumpolsors after me. Guess it must’ve stuck with me.”

Valliant snorts. “Imagine paying taxes,” she says.

“I pay taxes,” Pike says. “Valliant, do you not pay taxes?”

Valliant pauses, halfway out of her chair. “I pay taxes,” she says carefully, continuing to stand. “As much as is due to the city of Ul’dah.”

“Valliant,” Pike laughs. “Is that why Lolorito keeps muttering about audits whenever I mention your name?”

“I’m not even a citizen of Ul’dah, technically,” she grumbles. “I don’t know why he has such a bug up his ass about it.”

“You don’t pay taxes in Limsa, do you.”

“We’re not having this conversation. Feeling better?”

Pike shrugs. “Somewhat. Whatever Seren gave me must have worked it's magic.”

“Good,” she says. Valliant presses the back of her hand to his forehead. “You certainly don’t feel as warm. Seren said you’d gotten up to over 100 degrees yesterday.”

“Explains why I’m so sweaty,” Pike says. “I’m going to go bathe. I smell like a Morbol, I swear.”

“Seren said to remind you that you’re on rest for the next two days, regardless,” Valliant says.

“But—”

Valliant rests a hand on his shoulder. “Pike. I mean it. You’re going to work yourself into an early grave. Please.”

Pike sighs. “Alright, alright.”

Valliant pats him on the shoulder. “Thanks, kid. Love you.”

“Love you too, Vall.”

**Author's Note:**

> Valliant and Pike give me the warm and fuzzies <3 For me, it's an expression of the friendship between Valliant's player and me—he and I don't have a mother/son relationship, obviously, but he's one of my best friends and I love him very much. It makes writing Pike and Valliant interacting easy for me. Also the idea that Valliant doesn't pay taxes was a stupid joke that we just started going off on earlier so I had to throw it in.


End file.
